


I'll bet you didn't know

by Saria_Strategos



Category: Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter - Seth Grahame-Smith
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-10
Updated: 2013-01-10
Packaged: 2017-11-25 01:04:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/633445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saria_Strategos/pseuds/Saria_Strategos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of character quirks and facts about Henry and Abe that I bet you didn't know.</p><p>Some may include an OC, but it's mostly Henry and Abe</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll bet you didn't know

Sometimes, if Henry was thinking on a problem, he'd nibble on the knuckle of his index finger. Other times, when he was thinking very hard on a problem, he absently nibbled on Abe's. Abe wasn't sure if he minded or not, since he found it endearing, the way he'd thoughtlessly pull their entwined hands to his mouth and think he was gently chewing on his own finger when it was Abe who's skin was being steadily worried between his sharp teeth. He didn't know if he minded because when Henry noticed what he was doing, he'd kiss the skin instead and work his way along his hand to his wrist and up his arm, trailing kisses all the way to Abe's mouth. They'd chuckle at his mistake and go back to what they were doing, only for the entire process to start again some time later.

Abe sang to himself. When he was doing tasks that occupied his hands, mostly, but sometimes if he was trying to remember something, he'd end up singing it to himself instead of just reciting the words. Henry found it hilarious one day when he came down the stairs to find him singing about a surprise he was putting together for Henry only to blanch when he noticed him leaning in the doorway and trying to smother his laughter at the ridiculousness of his friend. He found it even funnier when the cook they'd hired picked up the same habit and they'd sing together. When they'd sing together he'd stay behind the doorway to listen with a smile on his face as they sang the grocery list or recipes to each other. When they began to sing real songs, songs that he knew, he'd come around the corner and join them, sitting on a stool and watching them work as he added his voice to their growing harmony.

Henry never could remember to refill his water pipe. He'd suck on it but hear no gurgling of water and while the smoke didn't burn his lungs as it would if he were human, it was still a very unpleasant sensation. After watching it happen three times in one day, Abe and Harriet decided to take turns checking to make sure there was water in the pipe's bowl. Henry never noticed the change except to remark one day that it tasted better.

Abe found he enjoyed being in the kitchen with Harriet. Not to say that he was any good at the cooking, but he liked to help as much as he could. Especially with the baking. Harriet made the most lovely rosemary bread and when she made pie it was simply to die for. Henry had come in more than once to find them up to the elbows in flower, Abe kneading the dough while she prepared the tins or filling, and he would scoff at him, saying he didn't know he was sharing the house with two women. He'd sit in the corner of the kitchen to jeer at him while smoking his pipe and watching them.

Henry would never admit it aloud, but he liked to sit in the kitchen while his 'ladies' were cooking. It was peaceful and sometimes they sang, even when he was in the room. And for all the fun he poked at Abraham he would never tire of seeing the very tall man in one of Harriet's aprons.

When Abe got angry he stalked. He did, there was no other word for it, he'd pace and brood and scowl but always try to stay out of the other's way. He didn't want them thinking he was angry at one of them, it wouldn't be fair. Sometimes he'd disappear out into the woods and just chop at the poor trees but he'd always be back in an hour to apologize if he upset anyone and accept their easy smiles and a slice of pie that Henry had stayed in the kitchens all day to help Harriet bake for him. Abe would only tease him a little for taking his place baking.

When Henry got angry it was a much grander affair. Things were thrown, rooms disheveled. He did not keep his thoughts to himself, rather he would yell them out and growl and sometimes do both at once. He didn't notice anyone around him when he got this angry so Abe stayed a distance away to watch and wait out the storm. When Henry finally threw himself into a chair with a huff, he would come over with Henry's pipe, light it for him and hand him the straw. Henry would puff at it quietly for awhile, Abe sitting next to him and rubbing at his neck with one hand until the anger had seeped out of him and he'd mumble a quiet apology and snuggle into his side.

Abe still prayed. Every night, he'd kneel beside the bed and speak with the lord, thanking him for his gifts, apologizing for the lives he'd taken, damned or not, and pray to the lord to watch over and protect those he loved, his dearest Mary, gone now from this world, his boys, all of them, and for Henry whom had looked after him all these long years and didn't seem to tire of him when he was being boring or tedious. Then he'd climb into bed next to a patiently waiting Henry, drape an arm around his waist and fall asleep almost instantly.

Henry too still prayed, but not as Abe did. After Abe had climbed into bed and fallen asleep Henry would run his hand through his hair and look up to the ceiling. He'd thank God for the man in his arms, for letting him forgive him for turning him into the monster he'd hunted, for staying with him even when he was being difficult. He'd ask the Lord to keep his Abraham safe when he could not, even though he was in no position to ask him for anything, being the abomination that he was. He'd whisper a quiet prayer to Edeva, his beloved wife from his past life, hoping she'd found the peace in God's kingdom she deserved and he would never be granted. Then he would lace their fingers together, wrapping the hand previously buried in Abraham's hair around his waist and wait for sleep to come to him.

Some days, things were different. Some days were harder. Like this day. This day was hard. They'd had to destroy a vampire who had been turned when she was just a tiny thing, no more than seven but the years she'd lived in this world had dulled her eyes from a carefree child's to a haunted monster's. Like a nightmare, they had seen her lure children from their mothers with joyful words of games and fun into dark alleys where she would abruptly change into a thing they would never forget. She'd taken a young boys life before they managed to get to her. They had to bury her and take care of the little boy’s body that day and it weighed heavily on their hearts and minds. That night, Henry knelt with Abraham beside the bed and they prayed together for the lost children's souls, for forgiveness for not being quick enough, not saving that boy, and they prayed for the child's poor mother who would soon receive news that her missing son had been ravaged by a wild animal and found at the edge of the woods. If vampires could cry they would have wept bitter tears for them but they had to make due with their prayers and holding each other that much tighter when they went to bed. Sleep did not come easily to either of them that night.

It drove Abe mad sometimes, how Henry would leave his...everything everywhere. Without fail, He was always trailing after him picking up his things when he dropped them to put them somewhere more logical. He'd discovered quite quickly that Henry favoured tossing off his jacket, ties, vest and boots wherever he pleased as he walked through the door, like a snake shedding skin. Sometimes it was all Abe could do to keep the man's pants on while Harriet was in the house (She didn't mind, really) and line his boots up neatly by the door, tossing the rest into the hamper.

God damnit, where the devil had his tie gone? Sometimes it drove Henry mad when Abe would tidy up and put his things away. He never knew where they'd gone. Heaven forbid he should look for his shirt in the closet or his slacks in the drawer. Why on earth were his boots by the door? He wore them about the house, not just outside, they should be wherever he'd toed them off so he could shove them on again one his way back.

As neat as Abe was with most of his things (The odd book or his ax lying about in some odd place could be forgiven) he has the most horrible tendency to leave shells on his side table. Things like the shells of sunflower seeds or walnuts were constantly littering the little end tables of the sitting room where Abe had recently spent a good portion of his time only to be knocked to the floor by a careless hand wave from one of them and then it became a mess and oh Henry, couldn't you please be more careful of what's around you? He wouldn't have to be if the birds stopped leaving their seeds around now would he?

Henry was a collector. Not of anything in particular, but of any thing that was small enough for him to pick up and keep in his pocket until he got home which he would then end up leaving on a shelf somewhere to collect dust. There were cabinets full of odd bric a brac and the surfaces of tables would have quickly succumbed to the same if Abraham didn’t try to tidy things up and keep their home livable. Every year he would force Henry to sit down and go through everything he’d collected to determine what he would like to keep. It was a painful time of the year for both of them, Henry because he didn’t want to give up anything and Abe because it was such an uphill struggle to get him to relinquish an item he’d rediscovered during their cleaning that he hadn’t touched since he’d bought it. One memorable year, Henry had refused to give up even a single little figurine, though most were cracked and broken with age, and had pouted for days when Abe tried to put his foot down about it. He kept everything that year because Abe could no longer stand the sight of his pathetically miserable looking friend. It didn’t stop him from boxing up a good number of the broken items (only ones Henry hadn’t had an emotional attachment to) and taking them somewhere never to be named three months later when Henry’d forgotten about them all over again.

One day, Abe was simply going to knock over a display case and break every single one of the little figures of ladies dancing or doves sitting there and staring at him with painted eyes. They were so useless, they served no purpose! Some of them weren’t even nice to look at! And those mismatched socks Henry insisted on keeping because ‘someday he might find the other, he knew they were around here somewhere and he liked that pair’ those would go in a bonfire! He’d clear the house of all these useless little bits Henry kept and then they could both breathe easier in the uncluttered space. The only reason he hadn’t done so already was because he would not be able to stand looking at Henry’s destroyed face when he saw the damage. And he thought it was sort of cute how Henry would wear mismatched socks when he no longer had any clean matching ones. That didn’t stop him huffing in defeat when Henry came out from under the bed one day and crowed “I found the match to that sock! I told you I would!” And then proceeded to look for its pair which he could not find for an additional month.

They both had a great affinity for music and the skill to sing nearly whatever they wanted. Periodically, just because they could and they very much needed a break from their work, they would join up with a production and do a tour with them. It didn’t matter if it were on stage or for the movies, when those came about, they would sign up and have a blast, helping each other rehearse. You may have seen Henry in the movie adaptation of Mamma Mia, or Abraham on Broadway in Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson. Henry’s swim trunks were much appreciated, and Abraham’s eye liner was much laughed at.

They liked Harriet. They really did. But for all that she was the world’s best cook, always very creative in the kitchen, kept it clean too and told Henry in advance when she was running low on something, she was one of the worst with hand crafts. She could knit, mainly scarves and hats. She’d even made a few decent pairs of slippers but her sewing? Well, perhaps it’s nicest to say t wasn’t one of her strong suits. Nevertheless she went out of her way each Christmas to make something nice for Henry and Abe. Last year it had been a pair of clumsily embroidered suspenders each. It was sweet of her to work so hard on them, the effort was evident, but it wasn’t hard to see where she had slipped with the needle or fumbled a stitch. This year she had presented them proudly with matching waist coats, embroidery decorating the collar and hem, their respective initials on the breast pocket. Her work had improved, certainly, but the threads were still bunched in places and she had clearly sewn the waistcoats herself as well as there was some gathering at the seams which didn’t quite match up. They liked her very much, and since they applauded her attempts to learn and progress with her skills, they wore them just as proudly whenever they could, because she cared enough about them to make them and at least the colours were nice. 

The first time Abe had been caught singing by Henry, it was Abe who was shocked when Henry leapt into the room he was occupying, belting out the next verse of the song shamelessly and very dramatically, full of energy and enthusiasm. Abe had stared and missed his cue which earned him a disappointed smack from Henry who picked up his line a moment later. Abe did not miss his next cue.

The first time Henry had been caught in the kitchen with Harriet, Abe had teased him relentlessly for ages in retribution for the many times Henry had done the same to him. Henry had smiled and endured the taunting as his due until he pulled his work from the oven. Abe stopped teasing when he tasted Henry’s honey cookies. Henry and Harriet shared a smug look and went about their work.

Abe often wondered how it was that Henry was so good at nearly everything. The man could dance, he could sing, he could fight, he could cook. He’d even caught him darning one of his favourite pairs of socks when he finally found the match but it had a hole in it. He chalked it up to having lived long enough to pick up a variety of skills over the years and hoped he could just get the hang of making those damn cookies as well as he had.

Henry practiced all of his skills. He practiced them a lot. They were things he’d worked hard to learn and he’d be damned if getting caught by Abe was going to stop him from fixing his favourite socks! And he sure as heck wasn’t going to give him the secret to his honey cookies either, no matter how much he begged.

The number of times Abe had said Oh Henry over the years came back to him in an inexact tally when one day the man in question came home waving a chocolate bar smugly under his nose. Why in the world would they make a chocolate bar called Oh Henry? Who’s grand idea had that been?

Henry took the greatest of joys in making Abe watch documentaries and parodies about himself. His current favourite was titled Abraham Lincoln Versus Zombies. He would treasure Abe’s face when he brought home the movie for years to come. They both agreed, though, that the scythe was a very cool adaptation. And then of course, there was the pornography.

When Harriet made ice cream, it was a big deal. When Harriet made toffee and walnut ice cream, nobody left the house. For that matter, nobody even left the kitchen, they simply sat and talked, scooping ice cream straight from the basin and commenting how she really must make ice cream more often. Ice cream was a rare treat because she didn’t always have time to make it and it took more cream and salt than they usually had on hand. Henry had thought more than once to purchase a cow to better facilitate the making of ice cream.


End file.
